


from the natives

by macabre



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU, Gen, HYDRA raised Peter, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kidnapped Peter Parker, Medical Experimentation, Parent Tony Stark, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark-centric, no beta so brace yourself
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:34:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23109298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macabre/pseuds/macabre
Summary: Because the kid isn't getting nearly enough sleep, some days are nothing more than Tony dealing with an irritated baby. The kid sways back and forth from his spot on the ceiling and Tony has to spend his time standing under the kid, just in case he falls, but he still refuses to lie down. Even if Tony pretends he’s going to nap on the couch, all comfy cozy like with a blanket and the lights turned off, the kid refuses to take the bait.So Tony lets the kid sleep where and when he wants. Which is under his bed after Tony is solidly out.(AU: Tony rescues an enhanced kid from both the clutches of HYDRA and SHIELD before he really understands what he's gotten himself into.)
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 74
Kudos: 436





	1. Chapter 1

It’s all a fluke that the kid ends up Tony’s; he wasn’t even supposed to be there, but Fury calls him in as back-up last minute after comms go down and before Clint is confirmed as man down. By the time Tony is on scene, Natasha has things mostly under control, although the fires have spread off the HYDRA property and into the national park close by. 

It’s not immediately clear why Clint’s face is both busted up to the extent that it is, but also why he looks like he’s been crying all day. He’s sitting on the side lines, quiet for once. Tony sits with him for a moment, but Clint doesn’t give anything up, and his team is alright, so Tony shrugs and is halfway to chewing Fury out for wasting his time before he sees Natasha with what basically looks like an electric noose.

“Is anyone going to tell me anything?” he asks her, trailing behind her as she stalks out into the dark, away from all the flames and yelling of the evac team. 

“Quiet, Stark.” She waves the rod in her hand, practicing her dexterity with it. The end of it sizzles.

“Tasha.” He grabs her hand, and she lets him do it. “What are you doing with that?”

“There’s a kid.”

A chill goes down Tony’s spine. “So?”

“He’s enhanced.”

“He’s the one who made Clint’s face look like hamburger helper?”

She nods. “He’s - he’s young. Really young. Close to his kids’ ages. And HYRDA was doing something to him - experiments. Conditioning. We don’t know, but when Clint went in to retrieve him, the kid went berserk.”

Tony’s not sure if Natasha knows he saw her file, the one that included more than just what SHIELD initially gave him. He saw the file with pictures of Natasha as a child - a six-year-old girl with braided hair and a toothy smile. He knows the cases that involve children are the ones that hit hardest.

Which is why he’s surprised. “So your plan is to wrangle him like a stray dog?”

Natasha stiffens. “He’s enhanced, Tony, and scared. Plus - this face gets me places in interrogations.” She tries to crack a smile, but he can tell she’s bothered by it. 

Tony ends up on the other side of the base, flying leisurely above the tree line. He’s headed back where he came from, but still half looking in case he sees anything, but his presence isn’t necessary. His mind wonders back to his plans for his next project, the ground below him quiet and still.

Until a certain tree almost right below him moves - actually moves - as if something hit it with enough force to tip it over.

It’s just his luck that, Tony thinks. Sighing, he drops to the ground. 

When he looks around, seeing indeed that the tree was uprooted, he knows he should be a little more cautious, but he’s annoyed and tired. It doesn’t matter - the kid is sitting still, perched up in another tree close by, just watching him.

Jesus. The kid isn’t just small - he’s young, but older than Tony thought he’d be, but he’s been starved. The skin is so loose on his bones that it sags like the skin of someone twice Tony’s age. The boy isn’t wearing a shirt so he can count every rib, and his eyes are so sunken back into his face that they aren’t really visible. 

Tony should let someone know he’s got eyes on the kid, but he doesn’t. The kid isn’t on the move for the moment, and maybe he can keep it that way.

He holds up his hands - weaponized hands, but still. “Hey kid.” Christ - he doesn’t know what he would say to any kid, let alone an enhanced kid who’s been tortured or brainwashed or whatever else they might have been doing. 

“I’m not here to hurt you. I’m not HYDRA. If you come down from that tree - ”

The kid jumps from the branch and lands in front from Tony, maybe three feet from him. He stays crouched down, but peers up curiously at Tony. His posture is defensive, not offensive, and quite frankly - this kid looks pathetic. Scrawny and injured with bruises and cuts all over. Tony would be afraid he might keel over any moment if not for the fact he saw the way the kid jumped down from that tree just a moment ago.

“Okay then.” Tony lowers his hands. Were they sure this kid did Clint’s face in? But then again - Tony can make out the blood on his hands, under his fingernails. “Look, kid - we gotta get you out of here. There’s nothing else out here for miles. We’ve got a hot meal with your name on it, then maybe - I don’t know, a shower.”

Tony leaves out the part about a doctor poking and prodding him, which he knows will happen as soon as SHIELD has him.

The kid shuffles closer, posed on the balls of his feet and walking on his knuckles, similar to an ape. He’s craning his neck up to look at Tony. Shit - maybe this kid doesn’t speak English. Maybe he does and he’s too traumatized to understand it right now.

Tony tries to take a few steps back to put some distance in-between their bodies so he can crouch down on the kid’s level, but the kid just follows him. Tony puts out his hand so he won’t get any closer - his repulser is almost flush against the kid’s chest - then crouches. 

“Kid, can you understand me? Shake your head yes or no.” 

Up this close, Tony can see the boy’s eyes - a warmer brown color than he would have ever expected. If he was having issues being cautious of the kid before, he definitely can’t now. Those are Bambi eyes if he ever saw them, and they make even Tony Stark melt a little. 

The kid makes a motion with his hand, passing it over his face from bottom to top. He pauses, waiting for Tony’s reaction, then does it again.

“Not sure what that means, kiddo.”

A frustrated look crosses his face, and Tony tenses, waiting to see if he’ll lash out, but instead the kid slowly lifts both hands and covers his face with them. He slides them apart to reveal a determined look. Then he takes his thumb and index finger and traces a path around his upper lip and chin.

Tony smiles. “A fan, huh? Nice to know my fan base infiltrates even HYDRA.” He knows he shouldn’t, but Tony retracts his face plate so the kid can see his face. It’s immediately clear that that was indeed what the kid was asking for - he actually smiles a little - just enough on one side that it counts. 

Emboldened, the kid reaches for Tony’s arm. His fingers are gentle as they slide up the armor, tracing the lines where nanites meet. They stop at the junction of his elbow and Tony realizes that he’s identified a spot where the suit can be pried apart if needed. 

He takes his arm from the kid, but the kid just reaches forward and puts his hand right smack dab over his reactor. 

“Hey, easy there, tiger.” Gently he pushes the hand away, his heart racing suddenly. The kid makes a soft grunting noise - a blink and you’ll miss it sort of thing. 

“Tony.” 

He jumps, scaring himself and the kid in front of him who scurries off into the trees. Behind them, Clint has arrived. He hasn’t been patched up yet - his face a fucking mess.

“Jesus, Legolas.” Tony braces himself for an earful about not letting a target get so close, but he’s surprised when Clint just sadly watches the kid perched up in the tree. 

With Clint watching so closely, the boy jumps and swings himself further away, moving in a circle around them. It could be perceived as a threat, but Tony doesn’t feel threatened. 

“Tony, you need to help him.”

“I’m getting him corralled, okay?”

“No, I mean you need to help him.”

The kid stops in one spot, peering down at them. In the distance, Tony hears a Quinjet. 

“He’s too young to go into SHIELD’s hands. You need to take him.”

“Fury isn’t going to let me walk off with him.”

“Do what you do best - improvise.”

Tony can’t believe he’s having this conversation.

“This kid needs help - professional help. I couldn’t even help a regular kid decide what’s a healthy breakfast.”

Clint shakes his head. “Take him to the compound. Fury might follow, but it’s a secured location. This kid needs - I don’t know. I know he doesn’t need SHIELD though.”

“That your fatherly intuition speaking, Barton?”

Clint smiles a little. It looks obscene with his cracked lip. “Maybe. Was it yours that told you to let down your guard?”

So, anyway - that’s how Tony finds himself with a kid in his temporary custody. A kid who’s been tortured and experimented on. That all becomes increasingly clear once he’s got him back at the compound and he slowly conducts tests - any kind of test that won’t seem like a test to the kid.

The bright automatic lights scare the kid every time they come on, so Tony has them disabled. They move around in dark or dimly lit areas. Loud noises - another obvious trigger. No new people - even ones as nonthreatening as Helen. Tony slowly collects his data. He can be patient.

Tony has to trick the kid into letting him look him over. For whatever reason, he’ll let Tony get close enough to touch him even though he didn’t let Helen get within ten feet of him. Before the enhanced healing kicks in - and that is a kicker, for sure - he tries to catalogue the injuries, but it makes Tony wonder if the kid was getting a beating right before Natasha and Clint moved in on the base. There’s no way he would have had the injuries he had otherwise. He heals just too damn fast.

He’s got some other things going on - missing teeth. Tony can see them on occasion when the kid is crawling around on the walls - literally both the coolest thing he’s ever seen and the scariest - because the kid will kind of hang upside down and stare at Tony face-to-face. 

He doesn’t like to stand up straight while he’s on the ground - he still shuffles around on his haunches and hands - so it’s only while he’s on the walls that Tony can really look at him straight on. He sees the missing teeth, a patch of hair that’s gone white around his ears. The kid’s hair in general is a mess that Tony isn’t ready to try and deal with - as knotted as it is, it’s past the kid’s shoulders and looks like it drives him crazy, but showering and bathing is still something they’re working on.

Priorities.

Like getting the kid to eat and keep it down. They go from Tony leaving all sorts of food out and about to the kid accepting whatever it is directly from Tony’s hand. Wouldn’t Pepper be proud if she could see him now? Handing and taking things from someone who is a complete stranger? 

The kid clearly doesn’t eat everything he’s offered - he always takes it, but Tony finds the food stashed all over the compound - he can follow his nose to wherever things are rotting, and the kid will follow him and act surprised to see it there. 

Some of the things Tony gives him make the kid sick. That’s to be expected - who knows what they were feeding the kid before. He tries to balance simple food items with the occasional little bit of something more exciting. The kid loves the taste of pizza - who wouldn’t? - but the grease content makes him sick later. 

Within a few days, they fall into a routine. It’s just the two of them in the compound. Tony eats and sleeps when he wants - and the kid is almost always around. When he’s working, the kid either hides under the desk, close to Tony’s legs, or he crawls around on the ceiling and watches. Depends on his mood. They’ll eat in the kitchen, with Tony trying to entice him to go outside after. 

That’s not going well. The child doesn’t want to leave the safety he’s found in the compound, and Tony can understand that, but he needs the kid to know he can go outside if he wants.

Of course, he spends a lot of time trying to figure out the kid’s name.

“George?” He guesses. “Fred?” Of course not - too young to be a Fred. “Charlie?”

Most of the time, the kid doesn’t react to the names, although he stuck his nose up when Tony asked if he was a Thurston. He wonders if he did guess the right name, if the kid would react or not. 

So Tony gets creative.

“Hey Tarzan, what do you want for dinner?”

“String bean, hand me that, will you?”

“I liked what you chose to wear today, Underoos.”

Mostly, he calls him kiddo. He bites back a remark in which he was about to call him mini-me after watching the kid refuse to go to bed night after night. 

Sleep is another issue. Tony gives the kid a room next to his, but he doesn’t use it much. He usually peeks in and out of Tony’s room throughout the night, and while he’s never caught him getting under there, he knows the kid sleeps under his bed at night once Tony falls asleep.

Because the boy’s not getting nearly enough sleep, some days are nothing more than Tony dealing with an irritated baby. The kid sways from his spot on the ceiling and Tony has to spend his time standing under the kid, just in case he falls, but he still refuses to lie down. Even if Tony pretends he’s going to nap on the couch, all comfy cozy like with a blanket and the lights turned off, the kid refuses to take the bait. 

So Tony lets the kid sleep where and when he wants. Which is under his bed after Tony is solidly out. 

Of course, they aren’t left alone long; Fury lets himself in early one morning, and Tony finds him sipping his most expensive blend of tea while leisurely perched on his couch, admiring his newest art acquisition for the lounge area. 

“Thought you’d be more of a black coffee kind of guy.”

“Rooibos has a lot of antioxidants, Stark.”

The kid hears that Tony is up and joins them in the lounge, sitting in the ceiling corner as far from Fury as possible, but also making himself look as big as possible, which kind of amuses Tony to no end.

Fury shuffles closer to Tony on the couch and watches as the kid paces a little closer, then backs off. “He’s protective of you.” Fury sounds amused. He slides back, keeping his distance once more.

Tony feels uncomfortable at the observation, but doesn’t say anything. Fury asks to speak to him privately, so Tony has to move them quickly into an unused part of the compound and lock off doors behind him.

“Where are you taking me, exactly?”

Tony just shakes his head. “If you don’t want him to overhear us, then we need to move a little further away yet.”

Fury makes an affirmative noise. “Enhanced hearing was marked on his chart as a possibility.”

“They didn’t know for sure?”

“They didn’t know shit.” Fury sighs. “His file wasn’t much. The kid’s name is Peter Benjamin Parker. His parents were scientists for HYDRA. Unclear if they volunteered their kid for this mess or if he was taken from them. Either way, they’re long gone now.”

Tony nods. He suspected as much - no loose ends left behind - but it’s still hard to hear. 

“They were playing with radiation. The kid’s been enhanced since he was eight - they were more interested in the medical uses of his mutation than the enhancements though.”

“So they…?”

“Mostly medical torture.” Fury doesn’t look away as he tells him. “They did put him through the paces a little - see how fast and how long he could run as he grew, see how much weight he could lift. Mostly though they wanted to see how long he could go without food, and then they found out that his body wouldn’t actually shut down, they stunted his growth by letting him go into what they called a pseudo hibernation.”

“Are you saying that he couldn’t starve so he became sleeping beauty?”

Fury nods. “He’s technically fifteen, but because they put him into stasis he’s really younger than that. Hard to know exactly what age his body is. Kind of like other projects,” Fury pauses, and Tony thinks about how he put his fist through Barnes’ face even after seeing the other lab rats on ice. “They only wanted him conscious sometimes. It depended on the test they were trying to run. Sometimes, unconscious is best.”

Tony turns away from Fury so he won’t see his face. He thinks about Peter eating a piece of mango like it’s the first time he’s ever had anything sweet in his life, and he thinks about how he refuses to sleep like a cranky toddler most days. 

He tries to keep his voice level as he asks: “Where are you taking him?”

Fury balks - it’s only a slight intake of his head, but it’s the most he’s ever seen Fury balk. “I’m not here to take the boy, Stark. I’m just here to tell you what you’re working with, as best as we know.”

Tony turns. “You mean - you’re leaving him here? With me?”

“You took him, Stark.”

“Yeah, to make sure he wasn’t immediately turned into another lab rat.”

“You’re the one he’s bonded with.”

“Yeah, because he doesn’t know any better! I’m the only one who’s shown him any kindness that he can remember!”

“He’s yours now, Stark.” Fury clasps him on the shoulder and starts for the door.

“Whoa, wait just a minute.” Even though Tony knew in his bones that it was the right decision to take the kid - Peter - with him at that moment in time, he really didn’t think SHIELD would let him keep him permanently. He knew, or he thought he knew, that someone would come knocking, and no matter what resources he may have, Tony wouldn’t be able to field them forever. 

Now he’s trailing after Fury through his own compound like a lost puppy begging. 

“I don’t know anything about kids.”

“Looks to me like you’re doing okay.”

“You barely trusted me enough to let me on the team, how can you be serious right now?”

“Stark.” Fury’s voice is dropping into that lower range, the range that tells you he’s about done. “You put yourself in this situation. The kid’s imprinted on you like a baby duck. He’s yours now, like it or not.”

When they open the locked door that Peter got separated at, the kid drops onto the ground, willing to risk Fury’s close presence to be near Tony. “Peter, just stay here for a sec, okay?”

Peter reaches for Tony’s hand, so he has to stop for a moment to gently take it back from him. Peter looks distressed, and it’s hard for Tony to literally push him away.

Fury’s almost out the door now, so Tony has to literally run after him. “Fury!”

There’s a helicopter waiting.

“There’s gotta be a better option. He’ll never have the chance to be a normal kid if you leave him here.”

Others outside of Natasha or Agent Hill wouldn’t be able to see it, but Tony can see the way Fury softens. It’s in the lines around his mouth. “I’m afraid that ship sailed long ago.”

Fury holds up his phone and touches the screen once. “A memento,” he explains as he pockets the phone. “Believe it or not, I have a photo of the moment Barton learned he was going to be a father. I’ll put this one next to his.”

Tony can only imagine what his faced looked like. 

Fury leans forward and grasps Tony’s shoulder. “It’s nice when this business gets to be about something other than pain and paranoia, Stark.”

Tony stands there, dumbfounded, as Fury gets on the helicopter. 

“Congratulations, Stark, you’re a father!” Fury has the gall to actually laugh about it.

The copter leaves. Tony remains standing there. He’s met aliens, survived open heart surgery in the middle of the desert with only a car battery to save him, fought alongside his dad’s science experiment who was dead for decades.

Somehow, this seems the most unbelievable. 

He’s in charge of a kid. An enhanced kid, given to him by SHIELD. Permanently in charge of him - it’s only a few hours later that Tony receives the paperwork to remind him. It’s all held together in a small briefcase. 

When he first opens it, there’s a picture. Peter - maybe four years old? He looks like a healthy and happy kid, smiling in some footy pajamas with ice cream on his face. Then there’s the other things - a birth certificate, a social security card, and adoption papers. 

Except these adoptions papers are already filled out: signed, sealed, and delivered. There’s even a Post-It stuck to the top of it. It reads: _Did the hard work for you. You’re welcome!_

It’s not just theoretical - Peter is legally his kid now. 

He can’t help it. He shouts a “FUCK!” so loudly that he can hear Peter jump in the other room. 

Christ. How is be going to tell Pepper? The woman who helped him field off paternity claims for the past decade? Hey, Honey - I have a son and I don’t really know how old he is! 

Well. It’s probably exactly the kind of thing she’s expected to hear for some time. 

Tony thunks his head against the kitchen island. Peter shyly sticks his head out around the corner. He needs to pull it together - it’s time to get his game face on. The custody papers are only the beginning. He’s got - all sorts of things to get in order. Insurance to fill out, education to think about. Suddenly, his method of throwing different food at Peter seems like the lamest thing he could have done. He needs to brush up on his nutritional knowledge and set an eating schedule. 

They haven’t even addressed the kid’s cognitive abilities - Tony needs to administer some tests to see where he stands. 

“Ugh.” Tony can’t help it. It just slips out. This is why he never wanted kids. They are too much damn work.

Peter slides up close to Tony’s hip. He still doesn’t really stand or walk much on his legs - he can. Tony has seen him. It’s just not his preference, but they’ll need to fix that before they venture out much. Otherwise, Tony can just envision the headlines. 

“Well kid.”

Wait. 

“Well, Peter.”

The kid’s attention was already on him, but he gives a full bodied jolt at the use of his name. 

“It’s you and me now. Officially.”

Peter smiles. 

He actually smiles. 

And Jesus - didn’t that just make it almost worth it?

“Christ kid, it’s a good thing you’re cute.”


	2. Chapter 2

Tony isn’t really sure where to start; with Peter’s physical needs, he guesses. He decides that if he’s going to get the kid on a healthy sleeping schedule, he’ll have to adopt one too. Tony cuts out caffeine by noon every day and tries, for all intents and purposes, to put the kid down starting at 9 PM. He wants the kid to start sleeping in a bed, so it really is like putting a toddler down - every night, he leads Peter into his bedroom and lies down on the bed, trying to tempt Peter to lie down with him. 

It doesn’t go well. Understandably, Peter isn’t interested in being confined in any one room, even if it’s a room that Tony’s decked out for him, and the kid quickly picked up on the fact that this particular room was one he’s meant to be in a lot, hence his hatred for it. 

Tony ends up falling asleep and staying in that room a couple times - sometimes he just gives up after a couple of hours. Peter continues to sleep only when Tony is already sleep, usually tucked up under the bed.

Well. They’ll keep working on that.

Eating is coming along better - the kid is still scrawny, but Tony can tell that he’s looking a little healthier. His skin has color to it again, even if he’s still pale because he refuses to go outside, and his hair isn’t so dull and brittle looking. One of his greatest accomplishments so far is getting Peter to sit still long enough for Tony to brush out his hair and cut it. 

It’s not the best haircut, but it’ll do. Tony was too nervous to cut anything super short with clippers, worried Peter might try and bolt and get hurt in the process, so he leaves it kind of shaggy around the ears. 

Tony has never done anything as intimate as cut another person’s hair; he gently pulls the strands away from Peter’s scalp and snips them with scissors, thinking of a time when Jarvis did something not so dissimilar last minute before his parents arrived home from a trip. 

Peter seems to like it; he won’t stop touching his shortened curls for the first forty-eight hours after. He smiles to himself as he does it. Because Tony has been so tactile with the kid’s hair, he also has to touch Tony’s hair, and facial hair. It takes everything in him to sit still while the kid’s got a finger on his cheek, but making Peter comfortable is more important right now than his own discomfort at the close proximity. 

It’s weird - Tony didn’t expect Peter to be so open with him. He expected a kid that would run and hide and need to be dragged out places, and that does happen sometimes, but mostly Peter wants to experience whatever Tony offers. 

Other than going outside. Working on that too, but there’s only so much Tony can do at one time.

For now, Peter is happy to let Tony maneuver him into a dining room chair to eat - he makes them both sit down to eat now, like a proper family. He lets Tony probe him in the lab with different tests. He runs different versions of physicals on Peter, but he also makes sure to make it fun when possible. Peter seems to display a preference for something like soccer over basketball - he likes kicking a ball around more-so than than throwing, and Tony learns that Peter will cheat if he doesn’t like doing something.

The last game of basketball he attempts with the kid ends with him ‘stuck’ to the hoop, hanging off it pathetically. Tony gently tugs at Peter’s ankle, but he just blinks down at him kind of owlishly and stays put. It’s not the first time Peter has acted like his ability to stick to things isn’t entirely at his mercy - there have been moments of him locked in places on the ceilings where Tony can’t naturally reach him and Peter seems genuinely distressed. Luckily, Tony can put on his repulsion boots if need and try and help. 

There was also the time Peter literally glued himself to Tony’s side. Jury’s still out if that was feigned or not. 

Intellectually, things also come together. It’s been clear pretty early on that Peter can read just fine. They work on his writing; Tony knows a lot of kids Peter’s age can’t write for shit anyway since they do everything on a device, but he’s hoping they can manage something a little more decipherable as time goes on. He buys Peter a range of literature for different reading levels. He’s not entirely sure what to expect, but the problem is that Peter seems to spend equal times pouring over picture books for toddlers as he does Harry Potter. He likes it all, and he spends a lot of time in the lab neatly rearranging his books into a makeshift library in the corner of the wide room. When Tony puts in some new bookshelves in Peter’s room, the kid doubles down and takes everything from those shelves and puts them in his preferred space downstairs.

Tony chooses his battles. He moves the bookshelves into the lab. 

And of course - he’s still having issues getting Peter to talk. It’d be one thing if they could discuss what Peter is reading, but it’s not happening yet, and in all of Tony’s research he knows that it’s not something he can push right now. 

Tony takes it as a personal accomplishment that the kid is starting to adjust when he finds Peter drawing one day. Art means the kid is happy, right? Or as happy as he can be at this moment in time. Some of the drawings are easy to distinguish - Peter crudely draws out the lab, even draws a scene of a stick figure (Tony) pointing at a smaller stick figure (Peter) with a some kind of ball. 

“Yeah okay, kid, I get it.” Tony knows Peter is jabbing at him with this. He pockets the drawing all the same. “I won’t make you play any more basketball.”

One of the most amazing things about Peter is his prevailing sense of humor. His kindness. His distinct personality that Tony was worried would be robbed from a kid in HYDRA’s clutches at so young an age. He’s playful - creeping along ceilings and walls and trying to take things directly off Tony’s plate or from his work bench while his back is turned. He adjusts so quickly to life at the compound that he can now run from room to room with the automatic lights turned back on - they don’t even phase him anymore.

Peter starts watching a little television; Tony has FRIDAY create a playlist of sorts of suitable programming for the kid to start with, and the first time that Peter laughs at a joke in a show makes Tony melt all over again. 

He also realizes that he should probably watch what he says more now. 

Tony could forget himself from time to time - if he whips around in the kid’s direction too fast, he might flinch back. He’s careful not to raise his voice and makes sure that all the alarms around the compound are still modified. Occasionally Tony needs to grab Peter out of the way if he’s synthesizing something, or if the kid’s about to burn himself on the stove while curiously looking at what Tony is cooking for dinner. 

They go from limited physical contact to easy pats on the head. In a true show of confidence, the kid lets Tony poke around in his mouth - Tony has been reading up on his dentistry for this exact moment. 

All in all, Tony is starting to feel like he’s nailing this adopted parent thing.

That doesn’t mean he is ready for Pepper to show up. 

“What the fuck!” She screams, startling Tony who’s bent over his chicken carcass, trying to to splay it open for faster cooking, but also startling Peter who is hanging from the ceiling directly above him watching. 

Tony assumes it’s mostly a kid hanging upside down that scares her, but it might be the sight of him in an apron cooking. He can’t be sure.

“Honey!” Tony bends down to check on Peter, who has fallen behind the stove and large island that stands between them and Pepper. “You okay, bud?”

He gingerly tries to pull Peter up, but the kid won’t budge. He’s hiding there now. He seems fine, other than scared of the intruder. He can hear Pepper’s heels tentatively getting closer, so he races around the island to intercept her.

“I, ugh, didn’t expect you!” Of course not - she hates the compound. She’s made it clear that their time together is better suited other places.

“Tony.” Pepper crosses her arms, narrows her eyes. It’s a look he could sketch in his sleep. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on, I’m just, you know, cooking dinner.”

“With a child.”

“Yeah, about that.”

“Tony Stark.” Pepper draws in a long breath, ready to launch into something. “I knew something was going on. You read and signed everything I needed on time for once. You even teleconferenced with Hammer without complaint, something I never thought I would live to see, and there was a reason, wasn’t there?”

“Pep.”

“You thought if you were on your best behavior, you’d get away with it, and I would be so grateful you were holding up your end of things that I wouldn’t bother coming down here.”

Her voice isn’t raised - he’s hardly ever heard Pepper raise her voice - but the inflection of it is enough that he knows Peter is cowering behind them.

Tony takes Pepper’s arms and uncrosses them. “Shhhhh.” 

“Are you shushing me?” She’s clearly taken aback, and maybe a little offended. 

“You’re scaring the baby.”

As well as they know each other, Tony has a hard time reading the mix of emotions on her face. She’s definitely annoyed. Concerned. Maybe she thinks he’s lost it. 

“And the baby needs to eat, because he’s got a super metabolism, so I need to get that chicken in the oven. And get him a snack. Scaring a kid gives them low blood sugar, I think.” Tony turns back to the task at hand. “So, wanna stay for dinner and meet my kid?”

Pepper looks ready to faint at that.

So, maybe there was a better way for Tony to introduce the concept of Peter to his soon-to-be wife. He’s not known for his tact, okay? Luckily, Pepper saves the questions for later and dives into helping him prep a dinner. Like, a real dinner, with multiple sides and a salad and even a cobbler for desert. 

Wherever she moves to, Peter dashes to the other side. They’re playing a long game of keep away wherein he keeps a counter space between them.

Pepper catches the kid poking his head over the kitchen island and watching her rinse the berries for the cobbler. She smiles at him softly, and Tony can see the moment that Peter starts to let his guard down. Up until the moment that Pep curls under Tony’s arm as he’s checking the temperature of the bird in the oven.

Suddenly, Peter is right up beside them, staring intently. He moves so quickly and silently - Tony’s used to it, but Pepper isn’t. She jumps, backing away from them both in the process. Quickly, Peter maneuvers himself into the spot that she’s now vacated - right under Tony’s arm. 

He stands very still, looking up at Pepper from the safety of Tony’s reach. He’s got one hand holding the back of Tony’s shirt, keeping him right there. 

“Hey, Peter.” She looks between the two of them. Her eyes narrow ever so slightly again, but her smile never falters. “I should more formally introduce myself, shouldn’t I? I’m Pepper Potts. I’m a good friend of Tony’s.”

She crouches down a bit, sticking out her hand - a pleasantry lost on the boy. He rocks back and forth on his toes a little, then quick as lighting - reaches out and pats Pepper’s head. 

Tony bursts out laughing, and Pepper straightens. Peter hides behind him. 

“Sorry, Pep. He doesn’t know what a hand shake is.” Tony continues laughing, and laughing. He laughs until there’s a tear in the corner of his eye.

Even Peter giggles at him, and Pepper rolls her eyes and leans a hip against the counter. “Yeah, okay. I see how it is,” she says, joking. 

They manage to convince Peter to sit with them at the table, only probably because the kid is starving, and it all feels so real suddenly. Tony is eating a proper meal at a proper dinner time with his fiancé and adopted kid. 

Adopted kid stolen from HYRDA. 

Probably still not as weird as being a super hero and fighting aliens, right?

Peter spends the entire time looking between Tony and Pepper. Pepper keeps laughing to herself over something, so now Tony is the one narrowing his eyes. 

With Pepper staying in Tony’s bedroom, the kid begrudgingly decides to stick to his own room. Tony can sense the kid’s head poking out of his doorway, straining towards their door, even if he can’t actually see it from where he is. 

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Pepper says, when he asks about it. “He’s possessive of you. He isn’t used to sharing your attention. It’s - it’s kind of cute.”

Then she laughs some more about it, and Tony mistakenly thinks that she’s softened over the idea of an adopted kid. No, she hasn’t - they spend the rest of the night hashing out the details of Peter’s existence. 

“So Nick Fury just handed you an enhanced kid?” She asks, incredulously, for about the third time.

“More like shoved the kid at me with proper papers.”

“For how long?”

“Supposedly indefinitely.”

“Oh, Tony.” She sighs sadly. 

“What are you looking at me like that for?”

“Honey.” She leans over him while they lie in bed. “I can hear it in your voice. You’re scared he’ll come back for Peter.”

It’s not something he’s explicitly thought about, but yes. Tony knows that SHIELD will come back any time they want to yank the kid, no matter what promises they might have made along the way. If it’s to their benefit, they’ll do whatever they want. 

“It’s a lot of resources to dump into something if SHIELD’s just gonna come calling again.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it’s the resources that you’re worried about, and not the fact that he looks at you like you hung the moon.”

They stare at each other. Neither blinks. 

Pepper narrows her eyes.

Tony makes himself look away. 

“You’re doing a great job with him, Tony.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“I’m serious.” She kisses his forehead. “I can’t wait to get to know him.” 

At first, Tony wants to tell her there’s not much to know; Peter doesn’t talk even. But then he thinks about how he can tell Peter’s favorite color already - blue. The kid seems to have an aversion to garlic that Tony only recently caught onto - he cooks with copious amounts of it, usually. Peter is left handed. And right handed. Ambidextrous. He takes a shower or bath only at night. The kid will read literally anything. 

There’s actually a lot to know, and even more to find out. 

The next morning, Tony gets up before Pepper to sneak out and check on the kid. He isn’t in his room, or the kitchen. He’s down in the lab, folding origami, a skill that Tony taught him to test fine motor skills. This morning he’s folding red and gold paper; Peter is trying to fold an Iron Man, Tony realizes. 

“Mornin’, Pete.”

Peter whips his head around, grinning. He throws the Iron Man at Tony, but it’s not as aerodynamic as his airplanes. He quickly follows the paper - launching himself at Tony, clearly relieved that it’s just him.

“Hungry, bud?”

A frantic nod.

“You wanna help me cook?”

A wrinkled nose.

Tony laughs. “Will you at least come upstairs with me?”

A shrug. 

By the time Pepper joins them, Tony has Peter placed in front of the television watching some kind of family friendly action movie while he preps a batter for crepes. He starts a fresh batch of French press for her and gives her a kiss. 

“Looks like you’ve got this handled,” she tells him.

“You sound suitably impressed.”

She hums. “I’ll withhold judgement until after I see you fold those crepes.” She slowly moves towards the couch to sit with Peter. It’s long enough that she can sit at the other end and still give the kid plenty of space. 

He shyly sneaks glances at her while she very pointedly keeps her eyes on the screen. Tony feels something in his chest tighten at the sight of them there. 

He definitely burns the first crepe he attempts. Peter must smell it before him, because he turns around and glances at Tony, wrinkling his nose. 

No worries - Tony definitely has got this.

He scrapes that crepe right off the pan and pours the next batch of batter in. He rolls his wrist, creates a nice and thin layer at the bottom of the pan. After he sets it back down on the low heat, he looks up and sees Peter is back to watching the show.

In the movie that Peter and Pepper are watching, some kind of disaster has just ended and a little boy is calling out for his father. “Dad!” he yells, his face covered in soot. “Dad, where are you?” 

The characters are in a forrest, and the dad limps out of some trees. The kid breaks into a sprint and his dad drops to his knees, lifting the kid in his arms.

Somehow, Tony knows it’s about to happen before it happens. The two characters, the reunion in the woods, not dissimilar to where Tony first met Peter. He can feel Peter’s neck begin to turn, he can smell the second crepe beginning to burn, and he holds his breath.

“Dad,” Peter says.

No one moves.

“Dad!” Peter stands on the couch, turning around to fully face Tony. Close to him, Pepper covers her smile.

Peter jumps a little on the couch. Any other time, Tony would berate him. Now, he just stands there, eyes glued to the kid. 

His kid just said his first word, and it was dad. It’s every father’s dream. 

“You’re my dad!” Peter says, pointing at Tony, as if there could be any confusion about whom he was referring. 

Tony starts. Now his kid is speaking in full sentences. His kid’s a genius!

“I can’t believe I’m here for this,” Pepper says. 

Tony stands there frozen at the stove long enough that black smoke starts to balloon up out of the pan.

“Sir, you have approximately fifteen seconds before the fire alarm will go off,” FRIDAY very usefully chirps. 

“Shit!” Tony curses, throwing the entire pan and its contents into the sink with a loud clatter. 

Tony rubs at his forehead to hide his face from Pepper. He’s not sure what to feel right now. It’s everything from nervousness to excitement to nausea to a sinking bitterness. Dad. He’s not a dad. How can he be a dad?

But when he drops his hands, Peter is still standing there on the couch, cautiously grinning at him despite the amount of noise Tony just made. He’s dressed in a AC/DC shirt and some sweatpants Tony purchased for him recently, his hair manageable only because Tony cut it. He knows he’s only got ten more minutes to feed Peter before the kid gets too crabby to do anything productive with him, and he also knows that Peter would have really loved those crepes before he burnt them. 

Shit, he really is a dad.

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be my take on a more light hearted version of this classic trope. If you're interested in something a little more realistic and a lot more dark, try my other story, _acolyte._


End file.
